Of Clear Sight
by Jest'lyn Tal
Summary: The aftermath of a battle leaves Garrus the chance to share a few things with Thane about Shepard. Curiosities are raised and answers are sought. Luckily, Thane is very good at finding people and he knows who he wants to ask ... FShep/Thane
1. Chapter 1

Standard Disclaimers: I do not own Bioware or Mass Effect

Story Continuity: This story is one in a series and has the following place in its order: Protective Instincts, Marked Territory, Memories that Don't Fade, Of Clear Sight, More than Enough

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Of Clear Sight

The husks came in waves, their presence annfounced by the low groans that inexplicably escaped their lips as they climbed up onto the lower platforms and wandered towards the stairs. Shepard and her group were doing their best to tag the hoard before they ever reached those stairs and became a threat. Certainly an easy task at first. The husks shambled in confusion before attacking and that left a brief but vital vulnerability which Shepard and her team relied on. It was a perfect chance to dent their numbers before they could start flinging themselves at those more alive than they were in an attempt to mindlessly batters that life away.

However, as the flood of husks dragging themselves from the depths just kept coming, it got harder. Every step they took in destroying the Mass Effect core, in freeing themselves from the trap the Derelict Reaper had become, resulted in two steps back as they had to take time out to defend themselves.

Sweat trickled down the bridge of Shepard's nose and she ignored it. The husks moved too quickly once they found their purpose, their prey, for her to lose focus even for a moment, much less the time it would take to remove the helmet and wipe her face. Couldn't afford to falter now. Just a little more and it would be over.

It didn't have to be true, she just had to believe it and then make it true.

She had her back to the console, leaving Thane and Garrus to handle the bulk of enemy coming up from the left and right respectively. They handled the initial surges, she was supposed to manage clean up for both sides and keep the enemy from the platform. It worked, it was still working but they were all getting tired. So far the cost wasn't high, though Garrus was bleeding from a cut over one eye and Thane was holding his arm a little awkwardly.

The first group of sickly pale and blue forms that broke through on the starboard platform were greeted with a tightly clustered series of center mass shots, before they even made it to the first step. A second group, farther on the right, Shepard took out with a couple of well ordered head-shots. That left a third though, running too close from port in the seconds she'd lost trying to thin the herd. She spattered it's legs and left it floundering while she tersely angled to take out a fourth, this one now dangerously close to Garrus.

Sometimes, despite their best efforts, they missed a few.

The one who flung himself at Garrus jerked back as the rounds impacted with shoulder and hip, but lurched forward regardless to grasp for the turian. Garrus effortlessly changed priorities, twisting to fire at his attacker and blow the husk back against the railing. His original targets, however, now became Shepard's as they rushed past the turian onto the upper platform proper.

Shepard could pick off numbers from the lower level with as much spray-and-pray shooting as she wanted, as long as it worked. Not the same when they made it up this far. Too close and her allies were directly in her line of fire.

Her head ached but she held out her hand to summon biotic power once more. It tightened her chest, a warmth that varied in intensity based on how often she' d been dragging the power forth. Now, after enduring charge after charge of the husks it was searing, dripping down her arms as she threw the last husks back. They tumbled like rag dolls and a rain of bullets, the rapid tap-tap of Thane's pistol, made sure they stayed down.

"That's the last of them," the turian called but was far to experienced to lower his gun or his guard. The last for the moment was what he meant. No more. No less. Shepard didn't waste that moment, turning neatly on her heel, taking aim at the glowing core behind them and shooting. Bullets disappeared into silvered blue, delivering no discernable damage except for the power spikes that one could read on the console.

She had a fresh thermal clip in the assault rifle, so she didn't bother any pacing. Just held the trigger down and corrected her aim when it threatened to jerk too far off. She got a good few seconds before the defensive mechanism for the core started up once more. Shutters began to close.

No, not again. She'd be damned if they had to go through another charge.

"Come on," Shepard advanced, focusing in tight as her window of opportunity and effectiveness both narrowed. Metal scraped under her foot but she didn't stop, merely took the obstacle in stride, literally, as she stepped up on it. Come on. One more bullet. One more bullet. One more…

The core flared and exploded, sending glass and metal flying through the room. They pinged off her helmet and armor. The Commander took another shot, a petty venting of vengeance that she felt she could allow herself. Then she spared a second to look down in mild curiosity to see what she'd stepped up on.

Ah. Right. The fallen Geth.

She jumped off of it and cleared her throat.

"Shepard," Thane walked over quickly, switching out his pistol for the assault rifle. Nothing was over yet. "That geth. I think we should bring it. Its behavior was strange."

"Leave it," Garrus shook his head, tensed, "We have enough trouble."

Garrus' practicality was rarely far off the mark. As if in response, that tell-tale low moaning began again. Shepard's lips thinned as she scanned. She really and truly hated that. The flinging, the open mouths gasping, the clutching she could all handle from the husks and call it a day. The moaning, however, took a quantifiable alien threat and tipped the scales towards the things of human horror.

She'd kill a hundred of them and whistle a merry tune the entire time if they'd keep their damn agony to themselves.

Eyes confirmed what ears had heard. There were hands beginning to reach over the edges of the lower platforms. Shepard expelled her thermal clip and quickly shoved in a new one, "Tali said no one has ever captured a Geth intact."

Plus, there was the fact that it had spoken. It had called her by name. It had opened up the force field to let them into the chamber here.

It had even saved her life.

"You know the risk. That's all I'm going to say," Garrus' tone was stubborn even as he shifted weight back. Thane wasn't looking at either of them, instead watching the edges of the room. He'd already given his recommendation.

Shepard shook her head and knelt, reaching for the undoubtedly heavy Geth. There'd be no way she could hoist it over her shoulder. Maybe she could get an arm under? "No time for a debate. Move out. Helmets on, too. Might be problems on the way out."

Despite his protests, Garrus was there in the next heartbeat, angling around the other side of the Geth to help her heft it up. She spared him a look and a quick sharp smile. The smile was lost behind metal but the look was understood. He nodded. Time to go.

"Find us a path, Thane," Shepard ordered. The drell started forward, gun at the ready in one hand, the other hand glowing blue in preparation. Thane led and they followed almost blindly. The Geth was damn heavy despite the hole in its chest. Metal and circuits, after all.

Garrus was tall, Shepard was less so. Their uneven gait and the fact that gravity was being a bitch meant that just maneuvering took up a hell of a lot more attention than it should have. Still, Shepard kept her eyes up, watching Thane. Watching their path. Luck held, or their urgency did. Thane only had to fire once or twice on their way.

"Joker," she called on the comm. as they reached the first true branching to what had been a fairly direct set of corridors, "You better be ready."

"Aye, Captain. EDI's got you," Joker's voice came back.

"Commander," the ship's AI's dulcet tones replaced the pilot's. "You should reach a suitable exit approximately a hundred feet port of your location. It is an exterior platform."

"You heard the lady, Thane."

A hundred feet. That was nothing. That was doable. Shepard was sweating but holding on well enough. There was a slight shift in pressure as they crossed some unmarked delineation point. Suddenly gravity tugged a little lighter at their heels and wisps of oxygen trailed up in a faint mist. Not a full loss of atmosphere but a breaking of it. Shepard smiled tersely, exhaling gratefully as hauling became notably easier. There was the platform, too, straight ahead. Thane stopped, turning to scan the corridors behind them, arm snapping up to take aim and fire. The flash of the muzzle announced the shots, incentive for Garrus and Shepard to keep moving even as Thane took up the rear to guard their retreat.

The waves were forming up again. A husk, angling in from the right to run at the group, fell, rocked back by the impact of multiple bullets. Now another, taken down on the left by the telltale flare of biotics. Electric charges could build in the air, deckplates shiver as explosions built and then bloomed, and still the husks attacked. Heedless and relentless.

Well. At least there was no sound to go with it.

Finally there was Normandy, beautiful and perfect as she glided up with hatch doors open and waiting for them. Shepard summoned the last of her speed and pulled forward, a better match for Garrus' longer legged pace. There was a brief blossom of light behind them, something to join the two or three Shepard had already noted, accompanied by a low grunt from Thane over the comm. Getting hotter, definitely. Shepard and Garrus didn't slow down, they charged right to the end of the platform. Without exchanging a word, human and turian both shifted their grips on the Geth, hauled back and tossed it across the expanse.

The geth sailed in a near perfect arc towards the open shuttle door, a marvel of low gravity and intertia. Shepard watched just long enough to make sure that throw had done its job, however, then she was turning, pistol seeking targets. Garrus was smoothly backing up to make his own jump into the ship. Hold the line until Garrus was mid-flight, then Thane, then herself. Almost done.

Motion to her right and she shot a husk only a yard or two away from her, forced to back up rapidly as she did so. Close! Too close! She whirled. One more coming through the doors. Two, over there, swarming a crumpled, dark, familiar form…

…

No sound.

Which meant that she hadn't realized Thane had stopped firing with that last explosion and never started up again. She'd simply kept moving. She hadn't even turned her head to check.

There was no thought. Shepard was running, sprinting with a nauseating jolt of adrenaline that washed everything else away. One husk's head exploded and the other was slammed into the wall, shattered under the force of her throw. "Garrus, wait!" she yelled. He wasn't moving. Thane wasn't moving and she couldn't get him aboard ship on her own and shit, his suit was probably ruptured, and that meant there was no time. She skidded, falling to her knees, reaching for the drell. No time to be gentle. No time to check. Damn it. Damn it. "Garrus!"

"Here!" the turian snapped at her. The platform was sparking, moments away from igniting into a fireball that would take them all down. Garrus got an arm around Thane to match Shepard's and they took off, dragging the unconscious form between them. Shepard's breathing was harsh and the hatch on the Normandy had to be wide enough to take all three of them at once because there was no time anymore and she wasn't about to let go of Thane to for any reason, damn it, so it had just better work….

Shepard clutched at the drell's jacket and they flew. Graceful as motes of dust until deckplate and Normandy were beneath feet once more. Gravity, full force. Thane's body slipped a bare centimeter in Shepard's grasp but no more as she lowered him to the floor.

"Joker, get us out of here," Garrus called on comm. jumping to slap the hatch control closed.

Shepard's terse voice nipped on his heels. "And get Chakwas down here, now!"

To be continued…

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Author's Notes: This is my first A/U story - at least by strict strict definition. (Because we've all seen the cut scene of the group running from the Derelict Ship and Thane wasn't hurt :P) Hopefully you can forgive me! From here on out, however, we go back to your reguarly scheduled "This could have been happening right under your nose in the game" game-plan for writing :)

[Update - I was informed by review that I had made the mistake of giving Thane weapons that he didn't have in the game. I thought about editing the story to reflect a little more accuracy in the game but, in all honesty, if I do that here? I have to go back and do it for every other story where I have Thane using a pistol. And - frankly, I've got him doing that a lot. *winces* So? I beg a little leeway on that since, in reality, I do believe he'd be skilled enough to use varied types of firearms. Thank you, though, aaasdf! I appreciate the heads-up!]


	2. Chapter 2

Standard Disclaimers: Bioware and Mass Effect are not mine. _Italics _indicate a flashback! I want to also thank kirjailija for the conversations that helped spark this. Check her out - she's got an amazing Kaidan fict going on called Standard Issue Life - same conversation started that as started this.

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Stars were not fixed points nor were they eternal. It was only an illusion of perspective that made it so easy to forget that they moved on the surface of a whirling galaxy and died in first flame and then ice. The Normandy, infinitely small despite the life and hope she carried, flew patiently through the void and as she did so Thane watched the universe from port observation.

The stars may have been moving but he couldn't see it happening. He was too small, too limited. He couldn't discern any change through the glass.

_Pain first. First. Foremost. A pounding in his head that makes sound flex in and out. A trampoline of volume, going up and down and distorting. He doesn't open his eyes. Not yet. He doesn't know where he is and that isn't good. Don't give up the advantage. Find out. Who is there? What is happening? What had happened to him? _

_He doesn't know. _

_The memory isn't there, as it should be, omnipresent like hands and feet, constant like taste or smell… _

_That unnerves him. Chills him. _

_Fight or flight? He needs to move, needs to go, needs to know what is happening but he can't make the darkness go away…_

"…_Commander, I really think we should talk about the geth you brought…"_

"_I think that can wait, Lawson, don't you?"_

"_With all due respect, Garrus, that's not your decision to make. That geth represents a significant opportunity for the ship. If Mr. Krios' condition changes, I'm sure that the Doctor will have EDI inform us."_

"_Miranda," the speaker's voice is mild, smooth and familiar. The uncertainty, the rising directionless panic he feels, begins to fade. He knows now. Shepard. Normandy. "I'll meet you and Jacob in the communications room to run a full debriefing." She pauses significantly, lending weight and uncompromising finality to her next words. "Later. Right now, I'm not leaving Medical. Understood?"_

"… _yes, Commander…"_

_His lips quirk upward in a smile and he stops fighting the slide back to unconsciousness._

The Normandy was a state-of-the-art ship and her Med Bay reflected that. Concussion, broken ribs, burns. All of them were healed with a little time and skill. There were patches of skin that were yet too pale, and a certain stiffness that still bothered him when he tried to move with his accustomed fluidity, but these were all correcting themselves in good time.

The memories of those last minutes on the derelict remained broken, however, a smooth unending line that first splintered and then disintegrated in a bright flash. Such things were fairly normal for a head wound and despite a vague irrational dissatisfaction with that, he accepted it. The details of what had come next had to be provided by other sources, anyway.

_He's sitting with Garrus at a galley table. The turian had sought him out, even though it was late. They'd been talking about trivial things. Easy things. Then Garrus asked what had happened on the ship. Thane told him what he was able to. The turian just shook his head. _

"_Shepard scared the hell out of me, you know."_

"_What do you mean?" Thane is curious now. "How?"_

"_She screamed," Garrus' tone is dry but there is something in his expression that holds nothing of humor and everything of a memory that disturbs._

"_Shepard? Screamed?" he can't help but ask and he knows he may sound somewhat skeptical._

_The Turian shrugs a shoulder, "I don't know what else you'd call it. Maybe yelled but it was shriller than that. She screamed to get my attention before I left the platform. That note in her voice… it worked. Otherwise the two of you probably wouldn't have made it out." He takes a drink, "Never heard her voice quite like that, Thane. Let's make it so I never have to again, yeah?" _

_Garrus may be leaning back casually but those predatory eyes of his are focused and it would take a less observant man than Thane to miss the concern. _

_And the clear warning._

"_I'll do my best," Thane understands._

"_Fair enough."_

_So does Garrus._

Thane stood inches away from it but did not touch the glass. He hadn't bothered to turn on the lights in the room, content to make his way in shadow and uninclined to encourage reflections. He did not need such things. Such distractions. He stood with hands clasped behind him, expression contemplative.

That glass in front of him was flawless to the naked eye, curve as it followed the hull of the ship beyond visual detection. Its surface would be cool against his fingertips, smooth and nearly frictionless against skin as dry as his. He didn't need to be told this to know that it was true.

Just as he didn't need to be told how much Garrus cared about Shepard.

Of course, there was a bond between all of the surviving members of the first Normandy. They'd all been a part of something larger than themselves and they'd all had to adjust to losing it. There was a subtle fierceness, a dedication not only to the mission at hand, but to each other that threaded through their actions. Thane saw it in the way that Dr. Chakwas made sure meals were sent up to Joker, Tali threatened Garrus as a response to his teasing, instead of just walking away, and Garrus spent some off-hours talking with the Doctor in Med Bay.

None of them wanted to lose it again.

None of them wanted to lose Shepard again, either.

Garrus, however, actively looked for ways to prevent that from happening. Not only did he watch her back on missions, he spoke up loud and clear about potential problems he saw and pointed out tactics as well as goals to keep them focused, all in an effort to keep his Commanding Officer, his friend, safe.

And, yes. To keep his other comrades protected as well.

_"What has she told you about Kaidan Alenko?" Garrus asks, perhaps an hour later. A joke about appropriating a decent alcohol from Mess Sergeant Gardner's secret stash had led to actually doing so and the conversation had been only intermittently serious ever since. _

_"Nothing," Thane says and it is true. He's never heard Shepard mention the man._

_Garrus' expression is hard to read. "He and Shepard were… close." He doesn't elaborate. _

_Ah. Thane will not allow himself to ask "how close?". However, as he cannot seem to find any other question to replace it, he remains silent for several seconds. _

_Garrus is watching him. Thane is meeting his gaze evenly. _

_"What happened?" Thane asks finally deciding to voice that single open-ended but cautiously limited question. He reaches for his glass. _

_"Well, I can't say for sure. Things were different back then, and Shepard and I didn't always talk as much as we do now. The Alliance has regulations against fraternization, like most militaries do, but from the beginning you could see…"_

_"Not that," Thane interrupts and feels the flutter at his throat betraying his impatience and irritation, even if his voice remains mild. "I meant that if he and Shepard were so close why isn't he here now?"_

_"Ah. Right. Sorry," and Garrus actually does sound it, "He refused to come with us. We finally found him again and all that mattered to him is that she's working with Cerberus. He wouldn't listen to her explain. He just called her a traitor and walked away."_

"_If that is truly what he thought," Thane says slowly, "then I don't understand how they ever got… close… in the first place."_

There was no warning. In less than the blink of an eye the black matte of unrelenting, unwavering space was replaced by the dull silver plating. Lights, commercial and residential for the citadel, strobed as they flew by at speed, flashing his face in various colors and hues. Joker liked taking his docking maneuvers with as much speed as possible, confident in his own precision, vindicated every time he conquered the odds against him.

They were here partially because Shepard had wanted to follow up on something and partially because they'd needed supplies and Thane had subtly pushed for the citadel as a place to seek them. He did not lie to Shepard about his reasons for wanting to return here. He wouldn't do that without a much better reason than he currently had and a lot fewer options.

However, he thought it was fairly likely she'd drawn her own conclusions about what might be drawing him back to the station where his son now resided.

He just hadn't corrected her.

Thane understood there were mysteries he would never solve. Factors he could never be certain of. He understood that, while the way people reacted might be something he could predict with a fair amount of accuracy, that the subtler motivations of personal choice were unlikely to be so easy to unravel. Especially choices coming from a member of another species.

He had his reasons for trying this time though.

Upper Ward. 109th block. Apartment J-3.

A place to start.

_The holo-vid was on, program babbling words that Thane hears but pays no attention to. He has an hour before his mark will walk into adjoining hotel room. The newscaster's voice bled the time out and would cover the struggle when needed. _

_"..Staff Commander Kaidan Alenko! Commander Alenko, it's an honor to have you with us here tonight. So we hear you and the SSV Seol are just back from patrol in the Skyllian Verge?"_

_"Yes," the answer was not hostile but encouraged absolutely nothing._

_"Well, we're all thankful for your service there! Can you tell us something about what sort of action you've seen? We've heard of some truly horrific attacks. What details can you give us?"_

"_I'm afraid I can't give you any details. It's classified."_

_Thane almost smiles, thinking that someone obviously overestimated this Commander's tolerance for sensationalism and the media. _

_The refusal hangs in the air awkwardly for a split second before the reporter is recovering. "Yes, yes, of course. I understand completely. Now, as I'm sure you know, the late Commander Shepard …June? Can we get her picture up there on the screen? Good. Thanks…. The late Commander Shepard has become an inspiration for a generation of young men and women who want to make a difference by joining the military. What sort of advice can you give to them? Or even those looking to follow your own example!"_

_There was silence._

_A silence long enough to gain Thane's curiosity and make him glance over._

_Long enough so that the cameraman knew to pull in a close- up to properly frame the tight lines of the military man's face, capturing the struggle there. _

"_Be ready to lose," Staff Commander Alenko said finally, voice rasping. _

_Then he stood up and walked out of frame without another word._

_Thane turned the channel to something louder._

The ship docked, finally settling into its place with all hints of stars and cosmos, eternity and immovable promises, erased in favor of the steel works of mortal hands. Beyond the friendly invitations of a crew granted a brief respite in shore leave, absent from his familiar haunts where her steps might take her to offer company or conversation, Thane waited.

And eventually, he left to go find Kaidan Alenko to get answers.

He had decisions to make.

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Author's Notes:

Computer problems aside, this chapter has been fully written out 3 times now. It was post it now or never!

The first version didn't satisfy me, the second came closer but then lost all hope of seeing the light of day when I was told 'that's obviously written by a chick! Dudes don't talk like that to each other' (which is sad, cause I kind of liked the Garrus/Thane bro-mance in that one - Though, fear not, the 'highlights' are seen above. Sort of) and, after scrapping everything for a distinctly odder approach that may or may not have worked --- here ya go! Sadly – the shortest of all versions :P

You'll notice that Thane's flashbacks are distinctly longer in this. My take on it is that he's very deliberately going through them – encouraging them – where as he isn't necessarily doing that in the scenes we see with Shepard in the game.

I did want to respond to Effect Junkie and give thanks for the review left. :) This last chapter /was/ initially from Garrus' perspective and I really had things I liked about it. Unfortunately, as mentioned above, it didn't fully click. The next, however, may or may not be from Kaidan's point of view. It's not a lack of willingness to try other perspectives - but we'll have to see what happens :) Thanks again!


	3. Chapter 3

Standard Disclaimers: I don't own Bioware or Mass Effect!

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Tesana ran through the ward, dodging first this way and then that, clearing potted plant stands and bright displays alike without pause. None of the people walking or shopping paid her much attention except to give her those annoyed looks kids like her always got.

Hooligan! Rat!

Her shoes flapped, the sound of the peeling leather hitting the deck plates a steady beat of accompaniment. She should have minded since it kept her from being quiet but the fact was that Tesana had never had brand new shoes, much less any that really stayed in one piece for too long anyway. So, for most of her life her shoes had flapped and she'd gotten rather fond of it. The sound was like almost like clapping. Her very own cheering section.

Watch the amazing Tesana clear that bench with a vault! Yay she did it!

Oh, look out for that Salarian! Can she round him in time? Another wonderful juke for Tesana!

Clap. Clap. Clap.

She giggled. No one was faster than she was! Not in the whole ward. Not in the whole Citadel.

Which was a good thing because the men chasing her looked /really/ mad!

She snuck a peek over her shoulder, slowing a little. There were three of them. A man whose arms looked as big around as she was, a somewhat plainer looking man with a shaved head, and a Krogan. That last scared her a little. She'd heard that Krogans didn't have children. Sometimes, just sometimes, grown-ups didn't hurt her as much as they could because she was still little. If Krogans didn't have children, though, that probably meant that they were meaner than most.

She'd best not get caught then!

The large man spotted her and she stuck her tongue at him before racing forward. Down another flight of stairs. Run Run. The pilfered data pad with its "skeematicks" thumped in the bag on her waist. Just a little further and she would make it to the bar. She didn't have a watch but she was very good at counting in her head so she knew she should be right on time if nothing bad happened.

The alley-way, narrow and dimly lit, was right ahead. She turned into it, skidding for a couple feet. There she crouched; looking once more to her would be attackers. They didn't see her yet, didn't know where she went. Tesana stood up and leaned out, taking the opportunity to drop the data pad behind a crate. Clank. She waited.

Not yet. Not yet.

Yep! There! The Krogan saw her, chuffing and pointing now. She jerked as if in surprise as her dark eyes met those reptilian ones. She yelped and then turned on her heel, running once more. Heavy footsteps were soon audible behind her. The alley-way opened up right into the common area in front of the bar and Tesana barreled out like a shot, veering to the left.

Right into the dark-haired man she'd spotted.

She cried out as she fell back, her momentum throwing him off balance only a little but causing her to end up on her rump as a result of the impact.

"Hey," the man protested sharply but didn't yell. "Watch out." Though he wasn't carrying a gun, his hand had dropped to his hip automatically, as if used to finding one there. That plus his short hair and the shininess of his shoes made it pretty certain that he was military. And if he was military and he was human, that added up to him being Alliance. Which was exactly as it should be. Good!

She stared up at him in silence, soulful eyes wide as she panted in fear. His expression immediately shifted, gentling as he started to crouch down, "Look, its okay. I'm not going to hurt you. You're alright, aren't you?"

It seemed like they were right, that he was a nice adult. Not that it mattered or that she'd been afraid, really, but sometimes people were wrong when they told you who was going to be nice and who wasn't. You didn't get very far just taking other folks words on things like that.

She scrambled back as he got closer and looked over her shoulder at the alley-way. Naturally, the Alliance man followed her gaze, just in time to see the men following her, red-faced and furious.

Tesana whimpered and bolted to her feet, darting to take shelter behind the dark-haired Alliance man. "Please? Mister? Don't let them hurt me?"

"No one is going to hurt you," the man said, voice soothing but hard eyes fixed on the three. "Don't worry." He raised his voice to carry, "Can I help you gentlemen?"

"Yeah. That little bitch stole something from us. We want it back," that was the Large man, not even trying to hide his hostility. The Krogan was moving to the left and the other human to the right. Tesana shrunk against her protector. She knew what they were doing. They were blocking escapes.

The Alliance man knew it too. He backed up a step, hand reaching out to her shoulder to keep her behind him. Like she was crazy enough to go anywhere! "Kid, did you take something from them?"

"No," she lied promptly, voice shaking.

"Bullshit!" the Krogan accused. "Turn her over! We'll shake her upside down and make her cough it up!"

"Come here, you thieving…" the shaved man made the mistake of stepping forward. Too close. Too fast. The Alliance-man's hand flared blue there was a ripple, or the impression of it. Shaved-head shouted as he was thrown against the far wall with a thump only to fall, crumpled and dazed. A fierce roar marked the Krogan before he charged and the Large-man jumped in to make a reach for Tesana.

The little girl shrieked but didn't react quickly enough to escape the hand that still grasped her shoulder. That ended up being a good thing since the Alliance-man used it to pick her up off her feet and half-shove half-toss her forcefully to the side, out of the way of the Krogan and out of the Large-man's reach. Tesana didn't waste the opportunity; she scrambled to get behind one of the retaining walls nearby.

_When things start to happen, get to cover. It's best to be safe._

Smack. Thump. Grunt. Son-of-a-bitch-going-to-make-you-pay. The sounds of the fight were clear and Tesana heard them all as she scanned the bulkhead walls near the floor. First things first. There. If worst came to worst there was a vent there she could squirm through to get away. An escape confirmed, she twisted and snuck back to the edge of her hiding spot. She gingerly poked her head around the metal to look.

Shaved-head had gotten to his feet and was rather unsteadily moving to help. Not good. Not when the Krogan had the Alliance-man by the arm and the Large-man was making use of those big muscles to punch. Alliance-man doubled over, and then hauled back against the krogan, using the bracing provided to bring that shiny shoe of his up into Large-man's face.

Splat went Large-man's nose.

Growl went the Krogan.

Thwunk went Shaved-head's fist into the Alliance-man's face, even as the Krogan was suddenly floating in the air. Tesana's eyes widened.

She hadn't known that Krogan could do that!

Apparently the Krogan hadn't known it either, because he was howling.

Dodge, duck, hit, jab. The Alliance-man's lip was bleeding now, though he'd bought himself some room in that Shaved-head was once more dazed and had fallen back a couple paces. He was visibly steeling himself to wade back in again, though, slipping on a pair of brass knuckles in preparation, when all of a sudden someone else was there!

Woosh, smack, thwack, and Shaved-head was out cold on the ground, a man in a long jacket standing over him and moving to close in on the battle.

Ohh! Tesana perked up. She knew who that was! The lizard man, Kolyat!

No, wait. Kolyat had color that went down his cheeks and did these C patterns on his forehead. C like C-Sec.

This lizard man didn't.

The Alliance-man knocked the Large-muscle-bound-mean man to the ground, finally. A right-cross to the face and another blue push that sent him back against a wall. For a moment, it looked like the Alliance-man might not realize that the newcomer had been helping him out. The look he gave to the silent lizard was wary and his hands flared blue threateningly. Then the Krogan fell from the floating and both human and drell turned to face him.

It didn't take long for the Krogan to be snoozing on the ground, just like the others.

The Alliance-man stepped back and wiped the blood at his lower lip, watching the drell. "Thanks," he said roughly.

"You are welcome," the drell wasn't looking at him though but instead was focusing on the retaining wall. "Tesana?"

He knew her name but he had to be guessing about where she was hiding. She knew he couldn't see her! Still, knowing her name meant that he was probably safe, especially since he looked like Kolyat. Tesana crept out from behind her hiding place.

"It's alright," the Alliance-man assured her, "They aren't getting up any time soon."

Tesana smiled and nodded tremulously. Then, with no warning, she ran to the man and flung her arms around his legs, hugging tight, "Thank you."

He hesitated before he patted her back but when he finally did so the gesture was affectionate, reassuring. "You're welcome kid. I'm just glad you didn't get hurt." He looked over to the drell, head cocked to the side.

"I'm glad to see you are safe as well. Mouse was worried," the drell told Tesana, then added. "He said he had something for you?"

Tesana straightened up immediately. That beaming smile of hers was now given to the drell as she nodded once more. "Okay!" She disengaged from the Alliance man swiftly, too smoothly to get grabbed, and ran for the now clear alley-way. He called after her but she ignored him. He wouldn't chase and if he did she could outrun him.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

Yay for Tesana, the best runner in the whole Citadel who was going to get all the ice cream she wanted and twenty credits of her very own!

Mouse always paid her with the best things when she did a good job.

* * *

"She'll be fine," the drell reassured confidently if not quietly as he watched Kaidan visibly worry about the girl.

"She almost wasn't a few minutes ago," Kaidan countered but made no attempt to follow the child. He instead looked back at the man who'd jumped into the fight. He wanted some answers. "You know her, then?"

"Yes," the drell crouched by the larger human, briefly checking for a pulse. Kaidan watched, eyes narrowing. It had been a small fight all considered. No one had pulled a weapon and he didn't murder people as a part of his off-duty activities unless he absolutely had to. The drell didn't know that, though and Kaidan couldn't blame him for checking. As long as he didn't start picking the man's pockets, Kaidan approved.

"Does she have somewhere to go?" he pressed. Not that he had many options to help but he didn't like the idea of a girl that young being on her own. It had only been chance that he'd been there and she might not be that lucky again.

The drell nodded and then stood. "You were headed into the bar?"

"Yes," Kaidan jerked his head to the doorway, "It was sheer coincidence that I was here to help."

The drell considered for a moment. "Then I'll buy you a drink and tell you what I know of Tesana. Agreed?"

It should have been easy to say yes but Kaidan hesitated. Talking to people took more effort lately than it used to be, especially when those people were non-Alliance strangers. So much effort that, most days, he just didn't bother to try. The drell was waiting quietly though and Kaidan had to admit he was somewhat curious. "Sure."

Thane turned and without another word walked into the small bar where Kaidan quite predictably spent a moderate amount of time during his off-hours.

The men on the ground were left where they lay.

* * *

In thirty-four years of life, Staff Commander Kaidan Alenko had only gotten drunk three times.

The first was before he'd known any better. He had been a raw recruit, just graduated and shipping out on his first real rotation. He and several other graduates were out celebrating, ready to raise hell and take names as they protected the universe. A pretty ensign named Gemma called him a "sour puss" for not doing shots with her. Kaidan wasn't a man easily moved by peer pressure, even peer pressure with the most gorgeous face in the class. However, while he wasn't moveable, he could certainly be flexible. He decided he'd drink with her until he felt himself getting inebriated. Of course with that quality of alcohol, waiting that long meant waiting until far too late.

The headache alone, torturously incapacitating even by his own rather jaded standards, would have been enough to make him swear off drinking more than a couple beers at a sitting ever again. The stories that his buddies told him about how he'd started making things float and broke a window, coupled with the bruise on his roommate's face, only sealed his resolve.

Until Shepard died. Or, more exactly, until about seven months after she'd died. That was the second time. His Commanding Officer had been trying to find a politic way to tell him that, while he had been promoted, he would not be assigned as XO or Captain to any ship. Ambassador Udina had interrupted, suggesting that, should Kaidan finally give up that fantasy about Reapers and stop fighting a dead woman's battles for her, perhaps the future might hold more prestigious opportunities for him. Until then, he'd serve where he was told or get out.

Kaidan had saluted, walked out, and quickly found a dive that he didn't give a damn about wrecking. He woke up in the brig, and was transferred immediately to medical once being conscious enough to scream came into play.

This time the agony from the L2 implant misfiring did have its upside. All his reasons to be strong, to soldier through, to fight the despair and loss had evaporated. No crew, no grieving friends, no duty to focus on. No comfort that at least it had all been worth something. With nothing left but loss he just let go and let the umbrella of physical suffering cover it all.

By the time Councilor Anderson arrived, Kaidan had been staring at a blank data pad screen, trying to get up the motivation to resign his commission, for the better part of an hour. Luckily, Anderson offered him another solution in taking more non-conventional roles, specifically for the Councilor. Kaidan would go where ever Anderson needed him and do what needed to be done.

It wasn't coddling either. There was nothing soft about the assignments he got and Kaidan threw himself into them all with single-minded ferocity. There were a hundred things he couldn't change, couldn't do. These things, though, these were things he could change.

These were things he would do.

Until Horizon.

Six days after the colony was attacked, once all the initial reports had been filed and he'd spoken to Anderson about Shepard's return, marked the third time he got drunk.

This time he locked himself in his quarters and kept to drinks he knew. He stopped himself at a specific point, marking the decline in his motor-skills by flipping coin and catching it. Once he missed, he went to bed. The morning brought pain but compared to the previous times it was mild enough.

He didn't know what he had been trying to prove. Perhaps, in some petty way, simply that his judgment was still sound. He was still seeing clearly. He still had perspective. Even if just over something like this and even if only to himself.

Despite that proof and success, though, there was no way Kaidan was drinking more than one beer in a public bar. It just wasn't him. Especially not with a stranger whose ability to fight and knowledge of the darker side of the citadel meant that he was more than he seemed.

This meant that Kaidan ended up nursing his beer for a while, since the conversation, once started, took on a life of its own. Sere Krios was how the drell had introduced himself.

Tesana's story, as Krios told it, wasn't an unfamiliar one. A duct-rat who made her living doing small jobs for those stronger and higher on the food chain than she was. Krios wasn't a part of that, he claimed, but he made no attempts to hide that he knew about it and the people involved.

That, plus the fact that he was letting Kaidan pretty much steer the entire conversation, made it a decent bet that he wasn't a reporter trying to get a new angle on an old story. That went a long way to allaying some of Kaidan's suspicions. As the two talked, Kaidan found out that the drell had spent a lot of years on the Citadel in the past but now worked on a ship for a woman he'd fallen for. It had taken a little more prying, but eventually the drell confessed that yes, ship work was new for him. In the past he'd done things that he wished now to "make amends for" in the time he had left.

Kaidan didn't ask for details. He didn't need them to understand trying to fix mistakes of the past and the rest was none of his business.

Instead, he raised his beer and nodded, "To making the universe a better place, then."

"Indeed," Krios took a drink with him and then set his glass down, "So why are you on the Citadel, Commander?"

"Just waiting reassignment," Kaidan told him with a shrug, "It'll probably be at least another week, unless something comes up. There's still an informal inquiry pending." The drell blinked and Kaidan felt compelled to explain further. "I was stationed on Horizon. A beautiful colony that didn't exactly want an Alliance Commander interfering in their affairs, even if it was to set up turrets that would keep them safe from an attack."

"That sounds like it must have been difficult," Krios noted.

"The difficult part is that, despite the guns being placed, they weren't fully operational when the attack came." Kaidan's voice was slightly bitter, the irony of the situation not lost on him. He looked away, out towards the bar, "A lot of good people paid the price for that. The colony runs the risk of being counted off as a loss now."

Krios was silent for a few moments. "I thought the name sounded familiar. I'm sorry. At least you can take some solace in that you saved some lives?"

"I could if I'd saved anyone," Kaidan smirked, "Though it wasn't for a lack of trying. I got taken down just like everyone else. It was Commander Shepard who showed up out of nowhere and got the gun working." He shook his head, a tinge of admiration to contrast with the harder set of his mouth, "She fought them off and saved the day."

"I thought she was dead?" the drell sounded confused, tone as casual in inquiry as anyone who had no personal knowledge of Shepard or stake in her life or death. "Or are the reporters correct and she was simply on some covert mission?"

"The reporters are wrong. She wasn't just pretending to be out of the picture, she wouldn't do that." Kaidan believed that much, at least. "Recovering from the destruction on the Normandy just took a lot of time. Two years, apparently."

"You don't sound happy about that," Krios remarked and then quickly gestured understanding, "Though if the colonists were as stubborn as you said, it was probably hard to see all your work go to waste and then to have a ghost arrive to do what you could not."

Any hint of smug humor, any trace of an edge to that low voice, or even too much sympathy and Kaidan would have left. It wasn't funny, he wouldn't be drawn into defending his actions, and he didn't want a friend right now.

Luckily, it was a stranger's polite attempt to understand. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Kaidan could accept that.

He smiled thinly, "I try to check my ego at the door when it comes to people dying. Besides, Shepard's saved my life plenty of times. I'm used to it. It was actually… really good to see her again." He found himself trailing off without meaning to.

Kaidan had known it was her. Even before he saw the armor or Garrus, even while he stood paralyzed. From the moment the sound of weapons fire had carried to him, something had told him that the rumors had been true. Shepard was alive. She was there.

And he'd struggled like hell to break free to get to her.

He cleared his throat and reached for his beer, speaking quickly to cover the inadvertent pause, "I mean, make no mistake. I would have preferred it if she'd come charging in on a white horse instead of a black one on loan from the devil. But…"

"A horse on loan from the devil?" Krios interrupted, head tilting curiously, "I'm afraid I don't understand."

Yeah, that did beg for an explanation, didn't it? "I just mean that Shepard came back," Kaidan said curtly, giving as little as he could. "but not to us. She's no longer in the Alliance. She's working for a civilian group." What he thought of Cerberus, of the atrocities they committed, of Shepard's choice to answer to them, he kept grimly to himself.

"She has reasons for this, of course?"

"I'm sure she does," Kaidan admitted, swallowing the last dregs of his beer before pushing it to the side. "I've no doubt she thinks she's doing what needs to be done. However, things are happening out there, bad things, and I've been pounding my head against the wall trying to rally people to be ready for it. Now she's back and instead of getting her own people behind her, instead of backing /us/ up, she's … going somewhere I can't follow. With people that can't be trusted."

"I can see why you wouldn't like that," the drell said quietly.

"I hate it," Kaidan's tone was jovial enough, though the smile had gone tight. "But there's nothing I can do about it. At least she's out there. That's what matters."

"Agreed," Krios said without pause, "and though her path is taking her places you can't follow, you can still be on each other's side." The drell stood up, reaching for his jacket and a thin wallet.

He was leaving and Kaidan relaxed because of it. Not that Krios was a bad guy but it was rapidly getting to the point where the conversation was going to have to be changed or Kaidan would have to find a reason to bow out himself.

Shepard was a forbidden subject, too complicated, too difficult for him to delve into most of the time even in his own thoughts. If he'd stopped to realize it, he would have been surprised he'd even spoken this much about her. "Theoretically. Though, she's not talking to me at the moment. Our last conversation was a little rough."

"You should probably give her some time, then," the drell suggested easily. "It sounds as if she's involved in something she believes is important, correct?"

"Saving the galaxy," Kaidan said it with a lightness that didn't quite convince.

"Then, by all means, I think it would be a very bad thing to distract her from that." The drell's tone was dry and he set down several credits. "So, give her a year."

"A year?" Kaidan wondered, "Why a year?"

Krios shrugged, "It's a good round number with such high stakes involved. Anything else probably won't be enough if she's truly dealing with matters that duty consuming." Dark eyes focused on Kaidan and for a moment, the drell just studied him. Then he nodded his head, "Besides, she might need you then. It was good to meet you, Commander Alenko."

The formal tone, an abrupt change from what seemed to be the mild drell's usual, struck Kaidan as odd. Still, he responded in kind, "You too, Krios. Take care of yourself."

With that, Krios turned to walk smoothly out of the bar.

Kaidan just watched him leave, thoughtful.


	4. Chapter 4

Standard Disclaimers: I do not own Bioware nor Mass Effect!

* * *

His fingers are cold, even though they are pressed together while he attempts to meditate. He's been back on the ship for some time now, and the peaceful reflection he seeks still eludes him.

It is not entirely a bad thing. There is much to think about. The conversation with Kolyat had not been an easy one, at least not at first. His son had been suspicious of what his father was doing back at the Citadel, especially since he knew that he had not been Thane's first stop.

Whether Kolyat had discovered this through his newfound connections at C-Sec, or through Mouse who might have spoken out of turn about what Thane had requested from him, the assassin didn't know. In some ways it didn't matter, except that Mouse should know better.

Still, his son had heard him out, showing unusual patience as he had struggled to find the right words to explain. Somehow, just saying that he'd been stalking Shepard's former lover to get a better idea of the man had not struck him as wise.

However, unless he outright lied, that was pretty much the situation.

Somehow, he had gotten through it.

Somehow, Kolyat hadn't asked questions.

Slowly, they'd begun to actually talk about other things. Words became little windows into each other's lives, warily given, but with an honest desire to bridge the gaps.

If he concentrates very hard he can feel the air cycling in from the port vent. Thane breathes in and then exhales. He once more reminds himself that the tasks he'd wanted to accomplish at the Citadel are done. There should be no feeling of something pending, something waiting.

Yet, there is...

Then he hears the door open and the tread of boots in a firm stride approaching.

…And he suddenly understands why.

"Do you need something?" he asks quietly, turning his head to look at her. It's good to see her and his lips are tugged upwards for it.

Shepard gestures to the side, "Do you have a few minutes to talk?"

"You needn't ask," Thane assures her, unfolding his hands as she rounds the small table. "Time for me is short, Siha, but any I have is yours to take."

He watches her chin rise slightly at that, a subtle gesture of denial or unconscious bracing against the realities he's seen fit to bluntly voice.

He shouldn't have voiced them.

"I just wanted to see how you were," Shepard admits tone casual, leaning forward regardless. "Did things go well with Kolyat?"

"Reasonably," Thane tells her and their hands meet across the table. The warmth of her skin is a pleasure and his thoughts briefly veer off into the various ways he could take advantage of that. He smiles, amused at himself and returns himself to the conversation at hand. "We spoke of his new duties at C-Sec. He seems pleased with them. I think that there is a strong enough sense of community at the Citadel to give him a sense of home, of grounding. Any rebelliousness or need to find his individuality I think, will also be served. Captain Bailey is familiar enough with living in a gray world that he'll be a decent guide for how to do it correctly." He gestures, "Given that Kolyat apparently has become fast friends with Mouse, I think last is going to prove very important."

"Well, they do have you in common, Thane." Shepard is trying not to smirk. "I think their friendship makes perfect sense, don't you?"

Thane cocks his head to the side to consider. "Perhaps," he allows and there is silence. Not awkward, but pressing.

There are things that they aren't saying, both of them.

Shepard responds to it by shifting closer, fingers tightening around his.

She doesn't tell him how many times in the past week she's been blindsided by thoughts and images of his body flung on the deckplates or his blood painted face in those moments before Chakwas would commit herself to any diagnosis. She doesn't admit that it leaves her feeling hollow and restless.

Thane responds to it by looking down to their hands. Pale pink and pale green, human and drell.

He doesn't tell her that although he would do anything to keep her from being hurt, he cannot bring himself to create distance between them. He cannot admit that sometimes, just sometimes, knowing that his death waits for him with quantifiable impatience is more difficult than he shows.

She wants his mouth on hers. To feel the warmth of his breath, his life, tangible and concrete in the pressure of his lips. To banish the ghostly images of what did not happen and get back to focusing as she should, damn it.

But to ask for that would be too needy. Too weak. And she cannot do it.

He wants her in his arms. To feel the yielding of her body as something given and received in this moment rather than waited for. To have the memory of holding her to combat the image of her being held by Alenko.

But to ask for that would feel dishonest. And he won't be able to explain. And he does not do it.

Instead he continues to study their hands even as she continues to study his face. His fingertips arc up along the inside of her wrist where faint blue veins are nestled between tendons. There he traces the line of her heartbeat.

Her touch is lingering as her fingertips mimic the caress in return. He looks up at her.

"Siha," he says quietly.

"Thane," she says softly in return.

"What do you wish to do now?"

They are both here, now.

What isn't being said can wait.


End file.
